Summer Flings and Dancing Dreams

by Sue Watson

  ‘Go on, put him out of his misery...’ someone piped up.

  ‘Marry him, just say yes so we can get served,’ another voice yelled.

  Tony and I laughed to each other, and with that he stepped to the side of my checkout and opened it up with a bow. ‘Remember that scene in an Officer and a Gentleman where Richard Gere carries Debra Winger out of that factory to a better life?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Watch me.’ With that, he stepped behind the checkout and with a gentlemanly flourish and to the delight of the queue, he scooped me up in his arms. I tried to protest but I was laughing too much, and as he carried me through Bilton’s towards the exit, I stopped trying to resist. Everyone was looking, my queue was clapping and shouting, which seemed to have a ripple effect as we walked through and the rest of the store became aware of what was happening – like a Mexican wave through Bilton’s people started cheering and stamping their feet. I waved to an open-mouthed Julie as we swept past Electricals, Carole was eating doughnuts in Baked Goods and she stopped eating to shout, ‘Go Lola!’ And I felt my heart somewhere in my throat, I was shaking with fear and excitement about what I was about to do. And I swear somewhere I heard the sound of ‘Love lift us up where we belong’, as I was taken away from one life to another... the one I’d always wanted.

  Later that night I turned on my computer and watched the YouTube video of me that everyone was talking about. Then I saw myself, and I could almost understand what all the fuss was about – I was a good dancer, I really looked the part too in Mum’s red dress.

  I thought about how proud and amazed my dad would have been if he’d seen me dance. Lack of money, time, geography and freedom all pile up, burying our dreams until they die with us. But I still had Sophie’s wedding money sitting in my bank... I’d wanted it for a rainy day, but who wants to stand in the rain? I had a dancing school to run and a life to live.

  Okay so if I used the money to put towards opening the school, I wouldn’t have any savings, no nest egg to fall back on. I’d be living like my sad – and who knows, I may die like my dad, on the dance floor, under that glitterball... but better that way than on the checkout at Bilton’s.

  EPILOGUE

  Six Months Later

  ‘What’s the weather like outside?’ I ask.

  ‘Cold, windy,’ she smiles.

  ‘Do you have a loyalty card?’

  ‘No... I’ve not been here before,’ the woman says. ‘My name’s Tammy Lawson.’

  ‘Well Tammy, welcome to “Tony and Lola’s”. Come on through, there are forms to fill in and you will be given a Tony and Lola’s Dance School loyalty card. You get dance points each time you attend and when you’ve collected ten points we give you a free class.’ My supermarket training finally came in useful for something.

  ‘Let me show you round, our class is in the other studio,’ I say, walking with her to the studio where Tony is teaching ‘Basic Ballroom’. He waves and blows us both a kiss. ‘I started dancing about 18 months ago,’ I explain, ‘it’s changed my life.’

  The woman looks at me a little doubtfully. ‘I saw you online, I imagined you’d been dancing for years.’

  ‘Yeah, it feels like I have,’ I smile, thinking of how a throwaway comment from my daughter about my ‘little life’ had started all this. I’d known I had to do something, but I didn’t know what it was until I found Mum’s dresses and the letter from my dad. It was remembering my parents’ glitter and wanting a handful of my own, then meeting Tony that had given me the direction I needed.

  Tony put the fire in my belly and the sparkle in my steps... then it was Juan who finally helped me let go. And even though it was over before it started, and I’d covered him in olive oil on a pavement cafe - he would always be a warm Spanish memory on cold English days.

  Since joining Tony’s Dance Class, I’ve danced under a Spanish moon, stomped under the glitterball in Blackpool and become an overnight internet sensation (over ten million hits on my flamenco and still counting – that’s viral, baby!).

  ‘Yes a lot’s happened since I started dancing,’ I say, thinking how much more I still had ahead of me. Tony and Lola’s opened after Christmas, we are jam-packed every lesson, and next month Tony and I enter our Argentine Tango for the first time at the big Blackpool Competition. Whoever would have thought all this was possible for a forty-something checkout girl. I didn’t.

  ‘What’s your secret?’ Tammy asks. I’ve been asked this so many times since I’ve become ‘famous’.

  ‘It’s no secret. I just started dancing, stopped saying “no” to everything and found a “bigger” life. I’ve given up my day job, and now I work here at our school teaching dance, which is wonderful, my dream. I’m actually living the dream,’ I laugh. ‘My mum also helps out with the performance side every Monday night and my daughter Sophie who’s just come back from travelling and about to get married is a student in two of our classes. And then of course there’s Tony, my dance husband – the only kind a girl needs,’ I laugh.

  ‘I’ve always dreamed of being a dancer, but I’m forty-seven, and until I saw you I thought I was too old.’

  I shake my head vigorously. ‘You are never too old.’

  ‘Sorry, I just feel so nervous,’ she smiles apologetically, her shoulders slump. She’s a little overweight and lacking in confidence like I used to be and I know exactly how she’s feeling. Life has rubbed off her sparkle.

  ‘I saw you and just thought “I want to be like her”... but I’ll never be as good as you, I can’t even dance.’

  ‘First of all – stop saying “I can’t” because, trust me, you can.’

  I gesture for her to walk towards one of the studio’s full-length mirrors with me where we stand side by side looking at ourselves.

  ‘Straighten up like this... and imagine the top of your head has a thread coming from it reaching the ceiling. Now lift up your arms,’ I lift my arms high with a wrist curl and she copies me uncertainly.

  ‘Now watch yourself in the mirror,’ I say. ‘I bet you don’t look at yourself in the mirror very often, do you?’

  ‘Never,’ she says, going slightly pink.

  ‘I never did either – I couldn’t stand the sight of myself, which is so sad isn’t it? But I do now, Tony says I think I’m bloody Beyoncé. And he’s right,’ I laugh. ‘I bloody do.’

  Tammy laughs, standing awkwardly by the mirror, her arms up but not quite there yet, she just needs a little help. I position myself behind her and hold her waist, straightening her slightly, moving an arm and, voila, she is there.

  ‘Now, just take a look and tell me that girl can’t dance,’ I say.

  She looks up, surprised to see her own straight back and confident, flamenco stance and she gasps. ‘Gosh I look better already.’

  ‘Yes, just the very act of lifting your arms is an instant body makeover,’ I say encouragingly. ‘Don’t be frightened to look at yourself and like what you see, it does more for your self-esteem than any man ever could.’

  She rolls her eyes, I get the feeling she’s not had an easy time. ‘I just don’t know if I’ll be able to ever dance in front of anyone,’ she says, almost defeated before she’s begun.

  I smile, and lead her confidently onto the studio floor. ‘I know you think I’m full of skill and confidence and nothing scares me, but I still have days when I’m not sure of myself, no one has all the answers. But I was just like you, Tammy, terrified of dancing in front of other people, until Tony gave me some wonderful advice. He said to dance like no one’s watching.’

  She nods and smiles still not convinced of her potential, her strength, but I know it’s there. I can see it in her eyes.

  I ask her to join in as I gather everyone together to begin the class. We go through the first, basic steps and I watch discreetly as Tammy and the other ladies try to master the movements. I know they feel foolish and self-conscious and I am whisked back to that cold, November night. I see that other Laura, who had no confide
nce, no life, no future – wearing somebody else’s leggings. And I just can’t believe how far she’s come.

  Later, when we get into more rhythmic movements, I can see Tammy has talent. It’s in the way she moves her hips, the easy control she has over her body and that determined fire in her eyes. I reckon it’s only a matter of time before Tammy is dancing under that glitterball.

  I have learned so much about me from dancing and I want to share this with other women. I want them to feel their strength and beauty, know they can be independent and talented, and it doesn’t matter about age or shape or past or present. With a lot of work, big determination and a little help from me – they will do it.

  Sometimes when I see doubt in their eyes I want to yell at them not to put their dreams on hold, shout yes to today, and don’t wait until tomorrow. I learned this from my father, in a letter written many years ago telling me to shoot for the moon and dance under the stars – before they all go out.

  A NOTE FROM SUE

  Thank you so much for reading ‘Summer Flings and Dancing Dreams,’ I hope you enjoyed Laura’s Spanish adventure and are perhaps inspired to put on your dancing shoes and Flamenco round the living room? I hope so.

  I have yet to leave the sofa to begin my own dancing career – but it’s never too late to tango, and who knows, one day any one of us could be like Laura and find ourselves wrapped round a hot Spanish dancer moving to the sound of Englebert Humperdinck!

  Anyway, if you enjoyed the book I would love it if you can spare the time between tangos to write a quick review and tell your friends – it would mean such a lot to me – and Laura/Lola!

  I’m now writing my next book and as always am missing the characters from this one. I envied Laura as she became firm and slim and gorgeous (something I will never do from my position on the sofa!) and I loved meeting up with Mandy, the beauty therapist from, ‘Love, Lies and Lemon Cake,’ again. But I particularly enjoyed spending time with Tony whose teasing humour and drama queen tendencies remind me of so many friends I’ve loved and laughed with over the years - there’s a little bit of all of them in Tony.

  Anyway, if you’d like to know when my next book is released you can sign here:

  www.suewatsonbooks.com/email.

  I promise I won’t share your email address with anyone, and I’ll only send you a message when I have a new book out.

  I would love for you to follow me on Facebook and please join me for a chat on Twitter... I’d really love to know what you think about the book and if it has inspired you to start dancing.

  In the meantime, thanks again for reading, and if you happen to bump into a handsome Spanish guy who offers to write a poem for you - go with it. But take Laura’s advice, enjoy the now and forget the forevers...

  Sue

  x

  @suewatsonwriter

  SueWatsonBooks

  www.suewatsonbooks.com

  ALSO BY SUE WATSON

  Love, Lies and Lemon Cake

  Snow Angels, Secrets and Christmas Cake

  Fat Girls and Fairy Cakes

  Younger Thinner Blonder

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  This book wouldn’t exist without the wonderful team at Bookouture. Thanks to Emily Ruston who provided the inspiration, added the spangles and tightened the bodice. Thanks also to Kim Nash for editorial olive oil, and sparkly marketing magic and Jade Craddock who pulled the choreography together brilliantly, and added the sequins! As always a special thank you to Oliver Rhodes, who guided me with his usual wisdom, brilliance and fabulous footwork.

  Thank you and lots of cream cakes to Russel Minton, for his friendship, advice, expertise, afternoon teas - and for teaching me the Argentine Tango in New St Station. Thanks to Barbara McLaughlin whose amazing knowledge of Flamenco dancing and culture provided me with a wealth of material for Laura’s Spanish adventure and Flamenco passion. Thanks also to Patricia Skeet of hebdenbridgeflamenco.org.uk who shared with me her wonderful experiences of living a Flamenco life both in Spain and the UK. Thank you to the Escuela Carmen de las Cuevas, for allowing me to use their beautiful Flamenco school as a setting for the book.

  Big thanks to my blogger friends and a special thank you to Anne John-Ligali at booksandauthors.co.uk for her support and ‘writer chats.’ And hugs and high fives to online BFF and ‘spectacular book homie’ - Katherine Everett at bestcrimebooksandmore.co.uk

  Thanks to friends and family especially Nick and Eve Watson for putting up with me and for always making me laugh – sometimes unintentionally!

  Finally, a very special thank you to my Mum, Patricia Engert – a huge ‘Strictly Come Dancing’ fan who knows her Paso Doble from her Argentine Tango – and who was happy to demonstrate in the name of research!

  Published by Bookouture, an imprint of StoryFire Ltd.

  23 Sussex Road, Ickenham, UB10 8PN, United Kingdom

  * * *

  www.bookouture.com

  Copyright © Sue Watson 2015

  Sue Watson has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this work.

  * * *

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events other than those clearly in the public domain, are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN: 978-1-910751-17-6

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Frozen Faggots and Little Lives

  Salsa, Sparkle and Sequin-covered Secrets

  Detox Chocolate and Bilton’s Babes

  Slut Dropping Zumba Queens and Someone Else’s Leggings

  Ping Pong Balls and Crystal Maths

  Lipstick Lesbians and Lavender Marriage

  Her Name was Lola, She Was a Showgirl...

  Christmas Wishes and Online Kisses

  Shattered Dreams and Flesh Tinted Pixels

  The Fine Tart of Sexting

  Dancing Like Nobody’s Watching

  Cameron, Cava and Candlelight

  Whatever Happened to Baby Joel?

  Dancing at the Deep End

  Fat Octogenarians and Flamenco Dreams

  Blurred Pixels and Overplucked Brows

  A Room with a View and a Woman on a Mission

  Hot Chorizo and a Spicy Spanish Poet

  The Princess Awakes

  Chocolate Churros on Plaza Nueva

  A Gypsy Wedding and a Long Goodbye

  Spanish Eyes ...Telling Lies?

  Goodbye Granada and Hello Dreamboys

  Weetabix, Weather and the Wrong Juan

  Answers, Questions and Tears

  Film Stars, Flamenco and a Very Special Dress

  Lip Balm, Tea Bags and a Pussycat Doll

  Ghosts and Glitterballs

  The Sizzling Senorita from Birmingham

  Epilogue

  A note from Sue

  Also by Sue Watson

  Acknowledgments

  Copyright